Page 25

“I trust your judgement,” I say, and then step out with everyone else.
Chapter 10
Penelope
I guess I should have expected that the wedding would be happening soon. Xavier, Dominic, and Tristan have been under a magnifying glass where their board of directors is concerned, and it makes sense that they would want to get this over and done with so they can get back to work.
But still, I thought I’d have a bit longer than a week and a half to adjust to… everything. It feels like time just flew by, and now I’m standing in the church where the wedding will be held, staring at myself in the mirror while Fletcher’ assistant Delia flutters around behind me, making adjustments to my dress.
To my wedding dress.
Sweet lord, I am wearing a wedding dress because I’m getting married in—I glance over to the clock on the wall—an hour and a half.
“How do you feel?” Delia asks, standing up and smiling at my reflection in the mirror.
“In the dress or in general?” I ask her.
She grins at me and shrugs. “Either. Both. I know weddings bring up a lot of feelings for people.”
I want to ask her how many weddings she’s seen where the bride barely knows the grooms and the whole thing is just abusiness arrangement. But actually, we’re probably not the first, considering the way the business world works.
I can’t tell her that I’m still trying to wrap my head around all of this. That I can’t really believe it’s happening. I agreed to this, and I’ve kept agreeing to it every step of the way, but there’s still a part of me that’s surprised I haven’t backed out by now.
It crossed my mind a few times, to tell the men that I’m not the one for them and they need to find someone else. But then the ORD officer had shown up to my apartment for the required questions and tests, and that erased any chance of me turning the three of them down. Because thanks to me agreeing to marry them and the strings they managed to pull, I didn’t have to go down to the ORD offices and have the whole presentation ordeal. And I didn’t have to admit to everyone that I lied about being a Beta in the first place.
I take a deep breath and try to figure out what it is I’m feeling. Surprise. Anxiety. A little bit of excitement, maybe?
“I think I’m okay,” I tell Delia. “It’s just a lot.”
“I get that,” she replies. “Listen, every bride has some anxiety on her wedding day. Grooms do too. You’re going from one phase of life to another and basically promising to spend the rest of your life with another person. It’s a big deal.”
“It really is,” I agree. Even though I’m only promising to spend the next year of my life with these three men, it’s still a big deal.
“If it helps, you look stunning,” Delia says. “Your men won’t know what hit them when you come down the aisle.”
That does help, and I stare at my reflection a bit, smiling. I didn’t know what to look for when it came to the dress. Most brides probably go for some mix of what they like and what they think their future husbands will want to see them in, but I had no idea where to even start with that. So I went a little selfish and focused on something that would make me feel good.
Fletcher and Delia kept telling me that it’s my day too and if I don’t feel like ‘the hottest thing in the room’ I was doing it wrong.
After trying on and saying no to what felt like half the dresses they brought for me, I finally found the one I fell in love with.
Instead of being the traditional stark white, it’s more of a creamy ivory color that Delia says brings out the warm notes in my hair. It has a full skirt that skims the floor, but flares out when I spin around, making me feel like a princess. The sleeves are off the shoulder and made of sheer fabric that ends at my elbows. As Delia pointed out during the fitting, one of the best things about it in the built in push up bra that shows off a tasteful amount of cleavage with the sweetheart neckline of the dress. My favorite part are the lace flowers that start at the bodice of the dress and cascade down to the skirt, sparkling with hidden seed pearl beads when I walk.
My hair is curled, held back from my face by two small braids that meet in the back of my head while the rest of it falls around my shoulders.
I look… beautiful. I feel comfortable saying that. My makeup is minimal, just enough to be formal for the day and to enhance my features, but not so much that I don’t recognize myself. I look like me. A very pretty version of me.
“Thank you,” I tell Delia. “And thank you for all yours and Fletcher’ help with this. I would have had no idea where to start, and you two were amazing.”
Delia beams. “It really was a pleasure, Penelope. You can’t imagine some of the bridezillas we have to deal with sometimes, and getting to work with someone chill like you was a welcome change.”
There’s a knock on the door of the dressing room we’ve taken over and then Fletcher’ voice from the hall. “Is everyone decent in here?”
“Come on in,” Delia calls back after a nod from me.
Fletcher comes in, dressed in his wedding outfit. It’s kind of amazing how he’s not matching our color scheme of dusty lavender, ivory, and gold, but his sharp suit works within it.
He smiles when he sees me, coming forward to take my hands in his. “You look incredible, Penelope,” he says. “Your men aren’t going to know what to do with themselves.”